


Sit Forward and Take it Hard

by Nutriyum_Addict



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nutriyum_Addict/pseuds/Nutriyum_Addict
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leslie Knope is not sitting back and taking it easy. Nope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sit Forward and Take it Hard

**Author's Note:**

> Was a (long) drabble on tumblr, but it's really more of a fic-let. Also, this may contain the Knope-Wyatt triplets conception. I'm just sayin'. 
> 
> Timeline: Season 6, during New Slogan.

"Sit forward and take it hard, huh?" He’s grinning at her from the hallway, fresh from a shower and in a pair of flannel pajama pants and a worn black t-shirt.

"Yeah, okay, so maybe that wasn’t the best phrasing."

"I don’t know. I think it was pretty good," Ben answers, entering their bedroom.

Leslie smiles back at him from her spot on the bed, binders and papers spread out around her. “Yeah, I’m sure you do.”

He spends a moment studying her face as she goes back to her work. She looks so stressed out.

"Come here," he holds a hand out from his spot near the bed and she gets up, walks over to him. Once there, Leslie twines her fingers into his, before Ben pulls her in for a kiss.

"Oh, you’re such a demanding yet sensitive cameraman," she tries when they break apart.

"Nope. Still not happening. But, you know, um, if you’re looking for a bodyguard for your dictatorship?"

"Always."

She gives him a small smile, but then starts frowning. “I can’t believe Welcome to Douche Nation is winning. Maybe I _should_ be a dictator. I can’t even think about leaving Pawnee with that winning the poll for the greatest city in Indiana’s new slogan! God, this is a disaster,” Leslie pauses to take a breath. Sighs. “Not even the dancing panda in a top hat makes it better. And before today if you had asked me, I would have said a dancing panda in a top hat always makes it better.”

"We’ll figure something out, Leslie."

"Maybe if I go on Crazy Ira and the Douche this week, you know, be super chill and just hang with them? Be a bro. Talk about the slogan, kind of all kicked back. What do bros talk about?" She asks. "Dick jokes? Fart jokes?" When he doesn’t answer, she adds, "Boobs?"

He makes a face, chooses his first words carefully “Um, that might work. Or I could just start the poll over again without a write-in option.”

"But Ben that’s not democr—"

"You know what? I’d really like to just talk about it tomorrow. At work."

"But..."

He hopes he looks tired, that could work in his favor. “Tomorrow. Please?”

"Well, what else would we do?" she asks him, her expression lightening just a bit. "Late at night? In our bedroom?

"I’m so glad you asked. And again, I’m going to refer you to _your_ new slogan.”

"Sit forward and take it hard?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I’m not sure that’s _my_ slogan."

"I think it could be," he tells her, nodding.

"Do we need a poll?"

"Show of hands, who likes sit forward and take it hard?” He asks and they both raise a hand. Then she’s laughing—the first genuine sign of happiness he’s seen on her face all day. Both the job offer and now this new slogan situation has made Leslie even more wound up than usual and he wants nothing more than to get her to relax—even if it’s only for a little while.

"But maybe before we jump right into that," he leads her back over to the bed and sits her down on the edge, kneels in front of her. "We could start with some...you _leaning back and taking my tongue._ ”

"Oh god," she says, with a slow exhale, "That’s a good one."

"It really is." He reaches up and slides his fingers under the waistband of her polka dot pajama pants at the sides, pulls them and also her underwear down while she lifts her hips up to help.

Once they’re off and tossed to the side, he stretches up and kisses her again. He realizes that she tastes like chocolate—he’s pretty sure she’s been stress-eating Hershey’s kisses all evening. She keeps some in the nightstand drawer on her side of the bed—right alongside her vibrator, some lube, a packet of fuzzy owl stickers, a pocket scrabble game, an Indianapolis Colts coffee mug, one of his ties, a book of crossword puzzles, a fork, and a small, blue birdhouse.

Her strange assortments and collections are one of the things he’s grown to love about her—as long as she keeps it all to a minimum...and squirreled away in drawers and closets.

Leslie fingers the hem of his t-shirt. “Arms up,” she tells him and when he complies, she pulls the top up and over his head tosses it over by her pants before he returns to her for more snuggling and kissing.

"You smell good. Like that fancy pine soap I got you. Like Christmas," she says, then kisses his neck, while Ben’s hands wander down along her sides, the swell of her hips, and settle on the inside of her thighs. He spreads her legs apart, while he slowly pulls away from her lips.

"Lay back."

"You know, we can just...go right to the _taking it hard_. I’m a big fan of that part,” she says with a glance down to the pajama pants tent he’s got going on, before returning her eyes to his face.

Something about the way she’s looking at him—so full of love and desire pulls hard at both his heart and his cock. He leans in and kisses the skin to the side of her knee, sucks the flesh gently, smells her arousal, then looks up at her and meets her eyes. “I want to go down on you.”

Ben returns his attention to her legs, tentatively licks at her inner thigh, feels her lay back. He pulls her towards the edge of the bed, his hands holding her thighs apart as he dives right in. When she comes a few minutes later, it’s with one leg swung over his shoulder, the other stretched down against his side.

After he pulls his mouth from her, things escalate quickly. His pajama pants end up on the far side of the bed, covering her binders and her t-shirt is maybe on the floor by the closet.

"Do you...should I..." He glances towards the bedside table’s drawer near the other side of the bed.

Although they had been trying to get pregnant since returning from Paris, this job offer had made Leslie want to slow that down a bit, just until they decided whether or not they’ll be moving to Chicago. And since she’s not on the pill anymore, they’ve been using condoms (most of the time) for the last couple of weeks. And while he doesn’t exactly agree with the pause in their plans, he doesn’t really feel right about pushing the issue either. So, Ben has been trying to remember to grab a condom and have it nearby before things get too serious.

Tonight kind of got away from him, though.

"I want you in me right now," Leslie answers, no hesitation.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she says, moving closer, about to straddle him where he now sits on the edge bed.

Ben grins at her. “Turn around. I have an idea.”

She gives him a look but does what he says, while Ben moves back from the edge of the bed and spreads his legs. He guides her back so that she’s about to sit between his legs, while he lines his cock up with her opening, rubbing the tip against her wetness.

"Come down and sit forward," he directs, with a hand on her hip.

She does, taking him in all at once, sitting between his legs, feet planted on the floor. “Oh.”

"Yeah," he responds. "God. Yeah. Babe."

Leslie starts using her feet for leverage, bouncing on him, wiggling her ass back against him. “Fuck, this is…”

"A winning slogan," he pants out, bringing his hands up to cup her breasts, pinch her nipples as she slowly rides him. As he kisses her neck, he watches as one of her hands abandons its grip on his thigh and wanders down between her legs. He moans as he watches her start to touch her clit.

After she comes, he moves his arms down around her, wrapping around her stomach and holds her close, pushes up hard into her until he’s quickly coming undone, unloading everything he’s got into her warm, wet center while he listens to her soft grunts.

Right after his own release, he can’t stop himself from wondering if this is the maybe the time that _it_ happens—they make a baby. And then Ben immediately feels guilty, closes his eyes and hugs her tighter. He really wants to start a family with her but even more, he wants Leslie to feel good about the timing.

"I’m not sure...there’s a non-messy way to dismount?" She asks finally, with a small giggle.

Ben makes a grab for his discarded shirt, gets it ready for when she rises up. “Go for it,” he tells her and they use the balled up material to minimize the mess, before ending up cuddled up on the bed.

"I should jump in the shower, brush my teeth," she says, but then makes no effort to move—even closes her eyes.

"You really should. You taste like chocolate." Ben kisses her.

"You taste like me," Leslie responds, snuggling against him.


End file.
